


Broken Reflections

by Rirren



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Community: spnkink_meme, Dark, Ezekiel | Gadreel Possessing Sam Winchester, Frottage, Inexperienced rapist, M/M, Masturbation, Obsession, Possessed Sam, Possession, Sexual Inexperience, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rirren/pseuds/Rirren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel doesn't want to leave.</p><p>Dean's deal with him could have gone so much worse…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/84092.html?thread=31543164#t31543164) SPN Kink Meme prompt.  
> Thank you balder12 and vyperdd for betaing!

Being inside Sam Winchester was a revelation.

Gadreel's short conversation with his first vessel notwithstanding, he'd never had the opportunity to see humans interact from up close. Even during his time as a guard in the Garden of Eden he had only had glimpses of Adam and Eve from afar. 

His task was to heal Sam but he didn't block himself off from the outside world. He wanted to learn, so he listened and watched while he repaired Sam's broken body. But the view he'd been steadily building up of Sam as a good man was cracked when he heard Tracey Bell blame Sam for starting the apocalypse. He had previously stayed out of Sam's memories out of respect but he felt this comment warranted investigation.

Gadreel was relieved when he reviewed the relevant memories. Sam hadn't been to blame. He had thought he was doing the right thing—that killing Lilith would stop Lucifer from rising, and for his mistake he had never been forgiven. Gadreel knew what that felt like. For his own mistake, letting God's most beloved angel into the Garden, he had been condemned to imprisonment and torture since Adam and Eve's expulsion from the Garden. Anger sparked in him at that. Their punishments had not been warranted, not when neither of them had had any reason to believe they were doing wrong. There were many players in the apocalypse and the fall of man, but Sam and Gadreel had been singled out as scapegoats so that others could be relieved of their blame. The injustices they had both suffered linked them together.

Sam was no longer merely a task that would help Gadreel redeem himself, he was a kindred spirit. 

He heard Sam tell his brother, "I'm happy with my life for the first time in … forever," and even though he knew it was a sin, he felt a glow of pride at those words, because Gadreel was the one responsible for that happiness.

\- - -

He tried talking to Sam. Gadreel found that if he approached Sam in his dreams, Sam would see nothing wrong with someone who looked like his twin talking to him at length. It was only when Gadreel would get too specific in his questions that Sam would start to suspect that something strange was going on. And then Gadreel would have to lock Sam down in a deeper state of unconsciousness and flee, grace shivering with exhilaration from the close escape.

He was content with those conversations. He learned about Sam—his fears that there was something inherently wrong about himself, his hopes to prove himself as a good brother to Dean, his loneliness… Gadreel talked a little about himself as well, though he couldn't let Sam keep his memories of these dream conversations, fearful that Sam would likely eject Gadreel if he learned of his existence. Despite each conversation being a clean slate, Gadreel felt a connection building between them, that they were becoming friends. The pain he'd felt since Abner had died ached a little less when he could spend time with Sam.

He took to waiting until Sam was asleep and taking over control, walking Sam's body to the bathroom and staring at him in the mirror. He touched Sam's hair, opened Sam's eyes wide to stare at the subtle color of his irises from up close, and ran his hands full down the length of Sam's body, like he could learn something from the physicality of Sam. He was entirely unfamiliar with what was considered attractive in humans but he thought that Sam was beautiful, that there was no one else who could be as beautiful in Gadreel's eyes.

He talked to Sam—learning his mind, and he touched him—learning his body from within and without.

It wasn't until a week later that he learned there was a way to be even closer.

\- - -

Gadreel was repairing oxygen starved brain cells when it happened. A shiver of electricity washed through the brain followed by a rush of blood to specific areas of the cortex. Gadreel floated up to the surface of their awareness and looked out through Sam's eyes.

Sam was lying in bed, propped up against the wall. His heart was pumping at an alarming rate and his breathing was shaky, and for a second Gadreel thought something was wrong, that Sam was frightened or injured in some way. But it was entirely the opposite—pleasure was flooding through Sam's body, nerve cells lighting up as they communicated this message to the brain. It was nothing like Gadreel had ever felt before. He knew pleasure, in the abstract sense and the sense of satisfaction he had felt from performing his job well, but he had never experienced it in such a pure form as this.

There was no reason that Gadreel could see for Sam to be feeling like this. All he was doing was lying in bed and touching himself, but it was where Sam was touching himself that the focus of the pleasure bloomed from.

Sam's hand was grasped firmly around his penis, and stroking it up and down, each motion sending shivers through him. His fingers slid up his cock and brushed against the slit of the head and he groaned, pushing his face into the pillow, the tendons in his arm tense. His other hand caressed his chest, nipples hardening at his touch, before he moved up and pushed his own fingers into his mouth. He sucked them in and moaned quietly, his hips thrusting up into his closed fist. That soft, pleasurable feeling was becoming more urgent, seeking a release.

Gadreel was shocked. Humans could do this? They could create that wonderful sensation just from touching themselves? 

Sam's movements were clumsier now, and almost desperate, as he fueled that fire of pleasure to heights unknown. Heat built up, Gadreel unable to do more than watch, until it climaxed. The world vanished in blinding white and for a second he thought he had been carried to rapture, forgiven by his Father. Their vision slowly came back into focus and he saw Sam lying back on the bed, chest rising and falling, seed glistening on his stomach. Even though he had no need for air Gadreel felt breathless as the brilliant pleasure slowly faded into gentle contentment.

Sam shifted and grabbed a tissue to wipe up the semen before throwing it away and settling back into the bed, a soft smile on his face. Gadreel could still feel the aftereffects, endorphins relaxing the whole body, soothing the aches of Sam's damaged interior.

Gadreel didn't know what to think, didn't know what had happened, what they had shared. He fled to the back of Sam's mind, leaving behind the sensations, and wrapped himself in the comfort of his vessel while he tried to grasp what had just happened.

\- - -

Gadreel couldn't stop thinking of that incident. He went through Sam's memories and found out what the experience was called (masturbation), and discovered similar memories. In those memories Sam was with women; he would touch them and they would touch him, and he would slide inside of them, the warmth surrounding his cock igniting that same pleasure, and they would move together until those feelings peaked.

It was called sex.

Gadreel was sure—sure—that Adam and Eve had never done this. They had never seemed to touch themselves, or pay much attention to their own bodies at all. This was perhaps something they had learned only after eating the apple.

Sex in Sam's memories was accompanied by a variety of feelings: happiness, love, desperation, sadness; but that height of pleasure and closeness remained unchanged. It was something that could only be shared with another; masturbation paled in comparison to it. Gadreel viewed these memories but he remained an observer, and he ached to experience those feelings himself.

\- - -

"Sam."

Sam looked up. He had been kneeling in front of a chest of drawers and throwing out clothes frantically. The bedroom was full of toppled furniture and papers strewn across the floor, testament to Sam's desperate search.

"There's a hex bag," he said distractedly. "I need to—"

Gadreel pulled Sam up by his arm. "The hex bag doesn't matter," he said, and the scenery shimmered before settling as a tidy room.

"Oh, I guess we found it." Sam's forehead creased with mild confusion, but he obviously wasn't too concerned. Dreams rarely made sense.

Gadreel's eyes flickered over Sam, his ruffled hair and his skin shining with sweat from his earlier exertion, and he reached out a hand hesitantly and touched Sam's face. Sam's eyes fluttered shut. Gadreel stepped forward, emboldened by Sam's reaction, and pressed their lips together in a kiss. A thrill of electricity went through him, the same that he had felt when Sam had been touching himself, and he made a small sound of surprise, before reaching down, wanting to make Sam feel just as good.

But Sam skittered backwards when Gadreel touched him, his lovely face flush with color.

"What are you—?" he gasped. "Who—?" And his eyes seemed to clear, as if seeing Gadreel properly for the first time. "You're a shapeshifter!"

Gadreel looked down at himself and smiled, only just now noticing that it was Sam's form he was manifesting as. "No, I'm not. But I enjoy taking your form."

"Dean!" Sam shouted, and he looked around frantically before his eyes widened at how the room was shifting between tidy and messy, fluctuating with Sam's turbulent emotions. "This is—this isn't real, I'm—what are you doing?"

Gadreel paused. He hadn't thought Sam would react this badly. "Just let me touch you," he pleaded, trying to salvage the situation. "I can only touch you like this when we're in your head—" 

"You're in my—?" Sam's expression morphed into rage. "Get ou—"

Gadreel panicked. He shut it all down, all activity in the brain ceasing for a second. Sam had been a moment away from expelling Gadreel from his body. He slowly released his strangling grip on Sam's soul, letting it come back to an unconscious state, and then hurriedly located Sam's memories of the conversation before burning them all out.

His grace felt curiously tense, as if this rejection was physically paining him. Sam's brother had told Gadreel that Sam would not allow himself to be possessed but somehow Gadreel had thought Sam would react differently after everything they'd shared, would recognize him as someone who had only tried to help Sam.

He wondered if perhaps he had done something wrong, alarmed Sam in some way. But he tried again in other dreams and the results were always the same. Each time Sam became suspicious and Gadreel had to stop him before he retracted his consent. He began to feel like he would never be able to touch Sam. Their souls were intertwined in this body but they couldn't properly connect. Not while Sam still held the power to remove Gadreel from his body.

He tried losing himself in his work for a while, focusing on damaged tissues and cauterized nerves, but Dean was growing agitated and kept calling Gadreel out, asking Gadreel to heal this person, fight these monsters, tell him how Sam was doing. It was irritating to be torn away from Sam time and time again and Gadreel found himself slowing down the healing process. Sam really was a mess inside—just being held together by Gadreel's grace, and taking a little more time could surely only be a good thing.

But then Dean himself tried to tell Sam about his angelic passenger, and Gadreel knew he had no more time left.

\- - -

A hiss of pain left Gadreel's lips as he burned the mark on Sam's inner thigh. He smoothed his hand over the skin when he was done, admiring the lines of the angelic binding sigil. Sam was safely locked up in his mind, and even if he did realize what was happening he wouldn't be able to expel Gadreel.

Sam would be able to keep his memories of their conversations now. They had all the time in the world to become even closer: Sam would never age or die as long as Gadreel existed within him. They had forever.

Gadreel pulled his clothes back on, taking a moment to glance at Sam's face in the mirror, _their_ face, and walked out of bedroom and upstairs, where Dean was still awake and watching TV.

"Dean."

"Sam? Wait, Zeke?" Dean twisted around and stood up, turning off the TV. "What's going on?"

"Sam is fully healed. I can leave him now," said Gadreel, looking Dean straight in the eyes.

"Seriously?" A cautious smile spread across Dean's face. "That's the best news I've heard all month," he exclaimed, before glancing around furtively. "Come on. Let's do this in the garage."

Dean led the way to the furthest wing of the bunker, shutting the heavy door behind them when they arrived. He turned around, looking a little awkward, before he put a hand on Gadreel's shoulder. 

"I—uh, I don't know what to say. Thanks, man."

"It was of mutual benefit," said Gadreel stiffly. "I have healed myself as well thanks to Sam."

"Yeah…" Dean removed his hand. "Well, good luck with everything." There was a pause. "Uh, Sam, he won't—?"

"Sam will remember nothing unless you choose to tell him."

"Right! That's … that's great." Dean's eyes drifted down to the ground, before he looked up and said, "Let's go then."

Gadreel nodded and stepped back, bowing his head and taking steady breaths, allowing his thoughts to calm. He started to compress his grace into a point, light shining from him, building brighter and brighter until it washed out all other color in the room.

"Shut your eyes, Dean!" he yelled, and when he saw Dean obey he let out his wings for a second to heighten the blinding brilliance, before immediately dampening the light and letting Sam's body fall to the ground.

The room was silent. Gadreel lay still for a moment before shifting and letting out a groan.

"Dean?" Gadreel pushed himself up with shaky arms. "What happened?"

"Easy there, Sammy." Dean was right there, helping Gadreel up. "You had a bit of a tumble."

"I passed out?" Gadreel blinked at Dean, holding onto Dean's arm like he was having difficulty standing up.

"I think you were sleep walking or something. The trials must still be messing you up," said Dean, and he glanced away, hiding the guilt in his eyes. "You should get back to bed; it's been a long day."

"I—okay," said Gadreel, his voice coming out a little lost.

He let Dean help him to his room and collapsed on the bed, curling up like he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep. He mumbled a "Goodnight" at Dean and lay still until Dean shut the door gently and left.

\- - -

He dove into Sam's head straight away. Nothing could keep them apart now.

Sam was seated at the table in a replica of the Bunker's main room, looking through a newspaper with several books spread open around him. He let the paper drop and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, looking frustrated with the imaginary case Gadreel had occupied his mind with.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam startled, head snapping up and meeting Gadreel's eyes, doubles of his own. He jumped up, knocking back his chair. "Dean! _Dean!_ " he yelled.

"There's no-one there," said Gadreel.

"How did you get in?" Sam demanded. His eyes swept the room before seizing on a sword on top of the bookshelf. He lunged and grabbed it, turning the blade on Gadreel.

"That won't hurt me," said Gadreel, and he swept his arm out, sending the sword flying out of Sam's hands. 

Sam stumbled back, eyes narrowing. "What are you?"

"I'm Gadreel, an angel. We're inside your head."

"An ang—you're inside me? You need permission, I haven't invited you in!"

"You've already given consent," said Gadreel, trying to be gentle. "Dean tricked you into letting me in."

"What?" Sam's voice came out as just a breath. " _Dean_ did this?"

"Yes. It was the only way to stop you from dying."

Sam's face had lost all its color. He worked his jaw, trying to control the anger and betrayal from showing too much on his face. "Get out," he said between clenched teeth.

And that was when Gadreel smiled, because nothing happened. He smiled with Sam's face, and laughed with Sam's voice. 

Sam lashed out, a punch landing on Gadreel's jaw and interrupting his laughter, sending him staggering back. He went for another punch and Gadreel blocked him, grabbing Sam by his forearms.

"Sam, stop, don't you understand? I burned a binding sigil on your skin, we cannot be parted."

Sam pulled back, wrenching his arms free. His eyes were wide, though he was trying to hide the growing alarm in them. 

"I've beaten one of you bastards before," he growled. "I'm stronger than you."

Gadreel shook his head. "You're not even fully healed yet."

He stepped forward and Sam backed away. Gadreel paused and chose his next words carefully.

"We can be together now, Sam. We've talked before, though you don't remember, and shared many things. I know you're hurt. I understand you and—"

"What?" Sam's mouth twisted. "You don't understand anything! You're an angel, a _parasite_ in my head! You don't know me! And I don't want to get to know you—I want you out!"

It was like a physical wound, as if the word 'parasite' was an arrow that pierced him. Gadreel's next words ripped out of him in a burst of anger that surprised even himself.

"Nobody understands you like I do! We've gone through things no-one else has! You let Lucifer out, believing it would save the world; I let Lucifer into the garden, knowing nothing of his ill intentions. They were honest mistakes, and our punishments have been disproportionate!" His voice dropped a little, took on a pleading quality. "But Sam, we can be more than this guilt. You were my redemption, you saved me. Everything I've learned about you says that we are meant to be together."

He took a tiny step forward. Sam tensed, his eyes tracking Gadreel's every movement.

"I've never tried to hurt you," Gadreel said softly. "I've been healing you this whole time."

"I don't care—" Sam burst out, and he took a step back, about to turn around—

And before Sam could flee Gadreel grabbed him by the arm, and forced his grace into Sam, sharing his most important memories of Sam, the ones that had forged this bond between them. Sam's eyes rolled as his mind processed them, and Gadreel watched him intently, begging Sam to understand, to feel what he felt.

Sam's body went limp as the flood of memories ceased and Gadreel grabbed him, holding him up. Sam was shaking, gulping in air, his fingers gripping tight around Gadreel's arms.

"You've been in me … this long?" said Sam, finally managing to stand up, pushing away Gadreel's support.

"Yes. I saved your life."

"Maybe I didn't want to be saved!" Sam shouted. "Not like this … you've been in my head, spying on me, erasing my memories … I want you out!"

"Sam, please, I can't—I've been alone all this time—"

Gadreel stretched out his hand and Sam jumped out of reach, like his touch was poisonous, and he didn't understand why it was all going wrong, why Sam was rejecting him again. They were two in one body, bound together by their experiences. Why couldn't Sam see this?

Sam backed away, his posture tense, and Gadreel could see he was planning to run. His control on the situation was slipping through his fingers, none of his words were working, and a wave of despair washed through him. He just wanted this one thing. He'd been locked away for so long with nothing; he just needed one thing, one thing of his own.

He reached out with his grace, undoing some of his work—enough to make Sam weak but not so much that he would lose consciousness. Sam swayed, blinking like he suddenly couldn't see clearly, and Gadreel rushed forward, toppling them both onto the bed, the surroundings having changed to Sam's bedroom to suit Gadreel's wishes. And when their bodies came into contact he felt it, like atoms snapping together into a molecule, the _rightness_ of it all, that they were meant to be together. If his words couldn't convince Sam then perhaps his touch could. 

Sam struggled, hitting and trying to push Gadreel off him. "Get the fuck off me!" he yelled. 

Gadreel grabbed Sam's wrists, shushing him and pinning him to the bed. Sam was still fighting but he could hardly stand against an angel when his body had been damaged so much by the Trials, especially not when that angel had full control over his body and its healing capabilities. He held Sam in place, letting him exhaust himself with his struggles. He didn't like seeing Sam so distressed, but it was necessary. Sam needed to understand.

Gadreel pushed away his doubts, using the opportunity to admire Sam now that he was finally touching him. He could finally be with him without the threat of being expelled from Sam's body. Now that he was here he hardly knew where to start. It was difficult to think when Sam was squirming underneath, his face flushed with anger and hair loose and wild.

Sam arched his body, muscles in his arms straining as he tried to break free, his neck exposed as he threw his head back, and _there_. Gadreel dived in, his mouth seeking out Sam's throat. He licked and mouthed at the skin, needing to taste the sweat, suck the blood to the surface. His hips dropped down, chest flush with Sam's, as he grinded against the crotch of Sam's jeans, and he could feel it now—that fire igniting in his belly. His movements were clumsy, body writhing as he tried to keep every part of him touching Sam, chasing that heady sensation of closeness—

Then there was breathy laughter. 

"Do you even know what you're doing?" gasped Sam, an edge of hysteria in his voice. He flexed his arms against Gadreel's hold.

Gadreel froze, shame settling in him as he kept his face tucked away under Sam's chin. It was true. He didn't know how their bodies were supposed to fit together; they were both in male bodies and all he had seen in Sam's memories was how a woman and a man made love. He was a millennias old angel and it was humiliating to be so ignorant, but his imprisonment had denied him the chance to learn about the world and humanity. 

"I know enough," he said, and he sat up before vanishing their clothes. "I know how to make you feel good."

There was a choking sound from Sam and he twisted his body suddenly, trying to get free. Gadreel held on and waited until Sam spent all his energy and finally stilled, his body shaking with fine tremors. Pleased that Sam was no longer fighting, Gadreel took the opportunity to look down their naked bodies, admiring how they mirrored each other as identical reflections. Sam's body was his body.

He let go of his tight grip on Sam's wrists. Sam tried to lurch upwards but his body gave up halfway through and he collapsed back on the bed, chest heaving with exertion. Gadreel smoothed Sam's hair back from his forehead, trying to calm him.

"Don't hurt yourself," he said. "Just lie there and let me look after you."

Sam just stared back, and flinched when Gadreel leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. When Gadreel pulled away Sam had gone perfectly still, his eyes unfocused and showing off their beautiful complex color. 

He swept both hands down Sam's torso, trying to mimic the way he'd seen Sam caress himself. He felt a thrill at the skin-to-skin contact, the shared vulnerability. He rocked his hips experimentally, pressing onto Sam's chest with his hands to steady himself. His cock slid against Sam's body and he gasped at the sharp spike of pleasure.

He stared down at Sam and an overwhelming surge of affection and wonder welled up inside him. Sam was here, he was Gadreel's now, forever. For so long Gadreel had had nothing, but he wasn't alone anymore; he had someone by his side, someone he could love and share eternity with. 

"Sam," he groaned, and he leaned down, capturing Sam's lips in a kiss.

The feel of Sam's soft lips against his made his cock stiffen and rise up, brushing against Sam's stomach. But Sam was still flaccid, and Gadreel needed to remedy that. He sneaked a hand down between them and clumsily grabbed Sam's cock, trying to pump it like he'd seen Sam do to himself. He moved and their bodies rubbed together _so good_ , he needed more. A whine escaped his lips as he broke the kiss, needing the leverage to grind their crotches together.

He could barely stand it. He was moving desperately but even with every inch of their body in contact, spread over Sam, it wasn't enough. He wanted to climb inside of Sam, wrap Sam around him, meld with Sam until he didn't know where Sam ended and Gadreel began. 

Gadreel's breath was coming quicker now, and he dug his fingers into Sam's shoulders as he rocked his hips into that exquisite friction. He pressed in tightly, and then he was coming, burying his face in Sam's neck to smother his cries, ecstasy consuming his every sense. 

He kept his eyes shut, his mind feeling unclear and thoughts fuzzy as he came down from that high. He licked Sam's skin and then pulled away, opening his eyes.

He didn't know whether Sam had come. There was a mess of sticky seed smudged over their bodies but he couldn't tell if it was just his or theirs. He rolled off Sam and curled up next to him, wrapping his arm around Sam and nuzzling into his throat. He'd do better next time. He'd tease Sam and lick him and touch him until Sam was overtaken with pleasure, unable to think of anything except Gadreel.

Sam was completely still, his only movement the soft rising and falling of his chest. Gadreel sent out cautious feelers of his grace to check if Sam was all right. He was. It had just been tiring. But Sam would learn to accept Gadreel's love. He'd become a less combative lover and their next time would be easier.

Gadreel gently brushed Sam's hair away from his face. Sam blinked, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes came back into focus, as if he had only just woken up. He took a shaky breath.

"Dean will realize what you've done," he said quietly. "He'll stop you." 

"You don't need Dean anymore," said Gadreel. "We have each other now." He pressed a soft kiss to Sam's brow. "Sleep," he whispered, and he pulled away, taking back control of Sam's body.

\- - -

Dean heard the footsteps when he was just scooping out the bacon from the pan and putting it on a plate. He turned around and saw Sam padding into the kitchen, rubbing his hair and yawning.

"Hey, you're up," said Dean, smiling. "I was just about to bring you your breakfast."

Sam nodded and grabbed the coffee jug, pouring himself a cup. He took a few seconds to take a breath and smell the coffee, before he took the first sip. "Morning," he said, a little hoarsely.

"You sleep okay?" asked Dean, pushing over a plate of eggs and bacon as Sam sat down.

"Yeah, I feel much better," said Sam, grabbing the plate and taking the first bite.

Dean sat down across from Sam, looking his brother over silently. Even though Ezekiel had said Sam was fully healed he couldn't help worrying. Sam looked up from his plate and smiled, catching Dean's eyes. And that was when the pressure in Dean's chest lifted. Sam was healthy and alive. Dean had made the right decision.


End file.
